, 1887-10-15

planned you won't think me worse than
a fool"
He tossed off another glass of wine,
and turning his face away from the wan
ing dnrlight, began his story, which, to
be frank, l was very curious to hear, not
withstanding my generous, proposal to
change the subject.
81 am going to tell you of an incident
of my ~childhood's days, which, however
strange and ~unaccountable it may appear
to you, is true in every particular. OF
that l solemnly assure you. The lapse of
years has not served to confuse or alter
the slightest detail in my memory. The
episode in all its horridness is as clearly
and wildly stamped on my mind now as
though it had occurred last week, instead
of nearly twenty years ago. l wish to
God it were notl
II was 10 at the time-a wild, impuls-
i've. yet nervous and highly Impressions
bic boy; an only child, as you know.
My people always took me to some sea-
side place during the summer holidays;
but in the summer of my 18th year the
governor was unable to leave town and
my mother preferred not to leave him.
1t looked as if | should have no sea
breezes and bathing that year, when
an invitation for me arrived from a
maiden aunt. who had taken a cottage
for the season at an east coast watering
place. l was lot particularly drawn
toward Aunt Maria, but | was desperately
drawn toward niggers, yellow sands,
wooden spades and sea water. l begged
my mother to let me G Aunt Maria
received me next day"
Tom paused to fill his glass. l was
wondering what all this had to do with
my beautiful Duchess.
Aunt Maria, " he went on, "was so
and fussy. She professed to be fond of
children, and to understand them. The
profession was utterly hollow, as was
proved by the fact that children didn't
like her. With children and animals
love begets love. Aunt Maria was a dis
ciplinarian; children must not talk at ia
bic, and all that sort of thing. Her ar
bitrary, old fashioned rules were more
especially irritating to me, because every
thing was SO different at home. Perhaps,
being an only child, 1 was a little spoiled.
However, as l spent at least ten hours of
the day in the open air l managed to be
tolerably happy.
"Only n of my aunt's absurd rules
gave me any serious trouble. 1t was
that children should manage to go to bed
without the aid of a light. Now to this,
as to the rest of Aunt Maria's rules, I
was quite unaccustomed; but beyond
that | was, as | ave said, a nervous
~youngster, and 1 had a rooted dislike
out of which l have never really grown
for being in the dark. Not, mind you,
that | was a coward. l would risk my
neck climbing a dangerous cliff, and at
school stand up and take a hiding with
the toughest of them. But in the dark
my youthful nerves were unstrung, or,
perhaps it would be more correct to say,
they were strung to their highest pitch.
Yet L was not frightened of bogies or
burglars. | was frightened of being
frightened. Queer, isn't it? but you I'M
derstand me-"
Yes" 1 grunted. 1t was psychology
cally interesting; but 1 didn't see the
connection with my cat,
Zone night pricked up my ears
and leaned forward; we were evidently
coming to the adventure-"one night"
continued Tom in lowered tones, 81 went
off to my bedroom as usual without a
candle. 1t was a pretty little room. on
the ground floor, with a window opening
into a garden. 1 was trying to forget my
nerves by whistling an air l had heard
he niggers sing on the sands. People
who are nervous in the dark have various
modes of conduct. Some are furtive and
quiet; others are noisy end defiant. 1
adopted a medium course. l affected
tranquility in a whistled melody and said
my prayers aloud.
at vas about 8 o'clock and not par
ticularly dark. 1 could see dimly most
of the objects in the room, but the bed
was in deep gloom. Suddenly I heard
something, an unusual noise, in the room.
l had ceased whistling for a moment
while l stopped to unlace my boots. My
heart seemed to stop beating and a chill
shot up from my back to the roots of my
hair. The sound came from the bed.
What 1 was always dreading had hap
pened. My sensitive nerves had been
startled-shocked in the darkness"
"And what was it?' l asked, much in
terested.
"a white cati''
WAS that all2"
"Wait!'' exclaimed Tom impatiently,
81 recovered my courage in a moment,
walked straight to the bed, and discovered
that the intruder was a cat. l lifted her
gently in my arms and carried her to the
window, where / found that she was pure
white, and very beautiful, exactly like
your Duchess. I would have caressed
her, being fond of animals, but she strug-
gled in my arms, and after scratching
me slightly, managed to escape through
the window into the garden.
THE next day 1 had forgotten all
about the cat. / went TO bed in the dark
at the usual hour almost too tired to be
v 1 again received a shock. Just
as 1 was about to get into bed something
jumped to the floor, and rushed to and
through the window. l crept into bed
with my heart beating violently, although
l knew it was only the white cat, who
had apparently taken a strange fancy to
my bed.
THE same thing was repeated on sew
eral succeeding nights. l went to bed
expecting it, yet it never failed to affect
my nerves in the same way. You may
think this strange, but it is true. The
very anticipation of the incident aggra-
waited its unpl~easantness. l began to dis
like my bedroom, to dread the hour when
| must retire to it. l grew to hate the
white cat. Had she allowed me to touch
her, to talk to her in short, to make
friends with her-it would nave been
different, for l was really fond of animals.